Snippet #1447177

Gawain, being the psychotic psycho he was, still stood where he was standing. Two of those freaks decided to run at him at the same time, with Gawain's solution to this problem being to implant hatchets into their faces. Blood sprayed onto his clothes, and a little bit on his face; he went even crazier. With the two freaks lying on the ground with his hatchets stuck quite firmly, Gawain whipped his baseball bat out. Bones cracked. Necks snapped. Heads were smashed inwards. He was doing pretty good at killing them and keeping them away from himself and the others, until one started sneaking up on him from behind. It grabbed onto his shoulders and attempted to bite Gawain's neck. Big mistake. Pulling his knife hastily out of his pocket - dropping the severely dented baseball bat on the bloody ground - he sliced upwards across the person's face. They staggered back, which gave Gawain enough time to kick that bastard in the throat with his spiked shoes. It still wasn't dead, so Gawain pulled one of his hatchet's out of one of the corpses and performed a nice little decapitation ritual on the freak. He did another freaky laugh, which was probably a bad idea. More came from around the corner, several more than there was before. And they all appeared to be rather muscular and taller than he was. Realizing it was time to run, he hastily pulled out his other hatchet from the other corpse, left the ruined baseball bat behind, and practically flew to the hummer. "Hey! You weren't plannin' on leaving without me, were ya?"

Whether they would let him in was another story entirely.

{{Written while I was half asleep. Hoorah.}}